My mom’s name was Mary Dorothy, but everyone
knew her as Dottie. During her hospice care, we had
more than just the hospice team around us — we had
family friends, some who are still in my life today and
some who aren’t anymore, and neighbors who
showed up in ways I’ll never forget. We were lucky.
Genuinely, deeply lucky to have good people around
us at that time.
But I learned something during those months that I
think every caregiver eventually learns, and I want to
say it plainly for anyone reading this who has
someone in their life right now who’s caregiving: stop
asking “how are you?” Stop asking “what do you
need?” Stop asking “what can I do?”
Just do.
Why the Questions Don’t Work
I know those questions come from a good place. I
know people ask them because they genuinely want
to help. But when you’re deep in caregiving, being
asked what you need is its own kind of exhausting. It
puts the work back on you — now you have to stop,
think, figure out what you need, figure out how to ask
for it, figure out if it’s even reasonable to ask for it.
Most days, you don’t have the bandwidth left for that.
The people who helped me most were the ones who
never asked at all. They just showed up and did
something. A neighbor who dropped off a meal
without checking first. A friend who just started a load
of laundry because she saw the basket. Someone
who said “I’m taking the dogs for a walk, be back in
twenty minutes” instead of “let me know if you ever
need help with the dogs.”
What Actually Helps
If you know a caregiver and you want to genuinely
help them, here’s what tends to land:
A meal you don’t have to cook. Anything. Truly
anything, as long as someone else made it.
A coffee run, especially if the person you’re caring
for wants something specific from somewhere
random. Caregiving often comes with fast food
runs and “can you get me a coffee from that one
place” on repeat, and it adds up.
Twenty minutes of freedom. Sit with the person
being cared for so the caregiver can shower, do
laundry, walk the dogs, or just breathe alone for a
few minutes.
A few minutes of company for the person you’re
caring for, so the caregiver gets a small break
without having to arrange it.
None of this requires a grand gesture. It requires
showing up and doing the small, unglamorous thing
without making the caregiver ask for it first.
To the People Reading This Who
Want to Help Someone
If someone in your life is caregiving right now,
especially for a parent, especially under hard
circumstances — don’t wait for them to tell you what
they need. Most of us don’t know how to answer that
question anyway, or we’re too worn down to figure it
out. Just pick something small, and do it.
You’ll never know how much a stranger’s twenty free
minutes can mean until you’ve lived without them for
months at a time.
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